Sometimes fucking,
Or lying with,
A mediocre woman,
Feels OK…

Better than nothing…

At least a small piece,
Of the fully-luscious pie…

But at other times,
Including now,
The mediocrity is so putrid,
And hearbreakingly incomplete,
That there is no compensation,
For the absence of perfection…

And I’d prefer to be alone,
And dream about –
Even painfully –
Distant elation…